House on a Hill
by Forgiveness Lost
Summary: He sees her cloaked within the shadows of pine. She bounces between rays of moonlight, twigs snapping beneath her bare feet. The white linen cloth draped over her shoulder is tied next to each hip, and the frayed edges sweep against her calves. He remembers when those were his legs to touch, once upon a time. Klaus/OC/Elijah
1. Chapter 1

Dawn came late that morning, Rowan thought. She glanced down to her phone then looked back to the horizon, where just a sliver of light glimmered. It came almost an hour later than the day before. It could have been the result of a multitude of things, like daylight savings—which she forgot about every year—or that time stopped again somewhere on Earth. It happens, what with all the witches roaming around. And usually, she wouldn't take notice, or would notice and wouldn't care, but something in the atmosphere shifted last night.

The air felt heavy, stealing the breath from her lungs. The sun, as soon as it appeared, disappeared behind a legion of heavy, grey clouds. The day would be a dark one.

The bodies—all twenty-six of them—smelled of rot and decay. She felt their presence, as she felt all forces of life, as they fluttered around Mystic Falls, no doubt scoping out their new home. She felt the strength of the magic, the eternal hope, the dedication. She also felt the despair, the agony of disappointment after the tomb opened. She felt the loss of a strong witch and the heartache that went with it.

The door behind her clicked open, and she turned to see her children.

Emma and Keenan dressed just as she, in a white linen cloth draped over the shoulder and tied at each hip. To mourn the death of the witch and ease her passing to the other side, they would perform a ritual at dawn. Then afterwards, they would leave. A town full of vampires is no place to raise children. Even if the children were hundreds of years old.

"We're ready, Màthair," Emma said, extending a hand to her mother.

Keenan hummed in agreement.

Rowan slid her hand in her daughter's and allowed herself to be pulled up. Her knees creaked from sitting on the front steps at such an extreme angle.

Emma grimaced.

"I'm sorry," Rowan said, rubbing her hands together. They were sticky from crushing vervain. Her bare feet were covered in it. As an extra precaution, she picked the vervain from their garden—Mystic Falls was founded by vampires, so it only makes sense that their kind were naturally drawn to the place—and crushed it, sprinkling the herb around the perimeter of the yard, and the rest in random places on the grass. Crushing it released its chemical compounds, so the air was saturated with the smell of vervain.

She held her hand out to Keenan, who held three white candle sticks. He handed one to her and gave a sad smile. While the Fae feel the loss of a witch, other witches and warlocks feel it heavier.

"I'm here for you," Rowan said, staring into his green eyes, then turned to Emma, "and you. Come. Let's start."

Rowan walked into the grass, searching for a spot clear of vervain. When she found it, she turned to her children and held out the candle with her left hand, placing the right one beneath it. Emma and Keenan followed her lead.

* * *

He watched her from across the street, cloaked in the shadows of branches and leaves. How long had it been since he'd seen her?

His fingers trembled at the proximity.

The scent of lilacs mixed with vervain.

Her hair, black as the night he'd taken her, swept across the curve of her lower back. It covered the tips of her ears, which pointed to the sun. It was the only thing, other than her otherworldly beauty, that set her apart from the humans.

The outline of her skin beneath the sheet wrapped around her taunted, beckoned him. His gums throbbed with the memory of his teeth sinking into her neck. The way the gold sparkled, slid down the curve of her breasts.

It was the vampire equivalent of human ecstasy.

Nails barred into his palms, and he grit his teeth. He had to have her again. He'd do anything, be anything, to make her his again. But first, he had to break the curse. It was the only thing separating them. He'd find Katarina. Get the moonstone. Break the curse. Create an army of hybrids. And she would be his queen.

After it all, she'd understand. She'd come back to him.

Klaus wasn't one to take no for an answer.

* * *

Rowan felt him nearby. The soles of her feet felt the heaviness of his energy. She couldn't pinpoint his location, but he was close.

"Let's head back inside," she said to her children. "We have an unwelcome visitor."

Keenan narrowed his eyes across the street. He could sense the bastard, too.

Rowan placed a hand on his arm and pulled him away. But she couldn't stop Emma from sending a barrel of energy through the soles of her feet. Even through shoes, Klaus' feet would be badly burned.

Rowan turned to scold her daughter, but as soon as Klaus' energy disappeared, she couldn't find it in herself to say anything. A weight she hadn't noticed lifted from her chest. Instead, she threaded one arm through her daughter's and one through her son's, leading them back into the house.

Klaus wouldn't be back for a while at least. Rowan would have enough time to pack her things, along with her children, and leave town before he noticed. He'd be too busy nursing the blisters on his feet.

But they would be back. And Rowan had a feeling it would be sooner than she would have liked.


	2. Chapter 2

Rowan looked up at the house. Aside from the overgrown weeds, it looked the same in the afternoon light. The vervain had died long ago, but its essence still remained. It still would have been too much for any vampire to step foot in her yard, so she knew it was safe.

The door knob felt cold beneath her fingertips. And as she swung the door open, she couldn't rid herself of the emptiness she felt at the loss of her children.

Emma stayed behind on the small reservation in Washington. She'd found her soulmate, and Rowan wasn't about to take that away. She wanted her daughter to be happy, and she'd do anything to keep her that way forever.

Keenan would come back. Eventually. He didn't have the heart to face his father yet, and Rowan knew that this would be the end of their running. They'd have to face Klaus sooner or later. She was ready. Keenan wasn't. And that was okay with her. He'd come when he was ready.

Still, she'd never felt so alone.

She closed the door behind her and let the duffle bag fall to the floor. Dust flew up around the bag. Sheets covered the furniture, and the house smelt musty. She wrinkled her nose. She should have hired someone to clean the house before she returned, but then again, she wouldn't have anything else to do.

Bunching her sleeves around her elbows, she set out to work. First, she opened all the windows. Both upstairs and downstairs. She could have done the cleaning the easy way, with magic, but manually cleaning was much more time consuming. It would occupy her lonesome thoughts.

God, she was pathetic. Couldn't last more than a day without her children around. She collected the sheets from the furniture, shook them off outside, and threw them in the washing machine.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a long shadow of trees in her backyard. She would have to pay Matt for taking such good care of her garden while she was gone. Grass tickled her ankles as she walked toward the garden to pick a few stalks of vervain. They would look lovely on her kitchen counter.

She picked lavender and rosemary as well. Back in the kitchen, she dropped them on the counter and rinsed her hands in the sink. Her anxiety level was high, and that made it hard to sense anyone in the town. Leaning her back against the counter, she closed her eyes, and brought the surrounding energy into her core.

But all she could feel was the emptiness of the house, and the emptiness of her stomach. She hadn't had time to grocery shop, so she tucked her purse beneath her arm, and locked the front door behind her.

The Mystic Grill hummed with emotion. Rowan felt it in her bones the moment she turned off the car. There were definitely some vampires, maybe a werewolf or two. Mostly humans. The whole event was somber. And quite honestly, one of the reasons she returned to Mystic Falls.

They mourned. Most of them, anyway.

She stared at the entrance way from her seat in the car. Her fingers felt heavy, like they didn't want to let go of the steering wheel. But the power of her stomach seemed to pull her away.

The moment her feet hit the gravel, she felt him behind her. His eyes burnt holes in her back, but she didn't turn. He would have to follow her in if he wanted to talk.

Voices filled her mind as she grew closer to the door. She smelt the tears, felt a black hole in her chest sucking away the sliver of happiness she held. Something horrible happened to the woman they mourned.

The Grill grew quiet as she stepped through the threshold.

Many faces, both familiar, and unfamiliar, turned to her.

The sound of a feather hitting the floor would have been enormous.

"Oh, Rowan." Elena was the first to speak. She threw her arms around Rowan and burrowed into the woman's chest. "Jenna is gone."

Rowan's arms rested around Elena's shoulders, one hand to her head. "I'm so sorry, honey," she whispered. Touching Elena hurt. The pain and suffering from the loss of her parents was still so very raw inside of her, and now to lose Jenna. Rowan couldn't imagine how Elena felt. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here."

Elena's breath hit her neck in a sigh, and the girl pulled away. She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes. "It's okay. I'm just glad you're here. Jenna really liked you."

"I know, sweetie," Rowan said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "I liked her, too." It was a lie. Rowan didn't really know Jenna. After the loss of Elena's parents, Rowan helped take care of Elena and Jeremy. She mostly sent money, because there wasn't anything else that she could do, but that was the extent of their relationship.

Elena gave her a tight smile, muttered a 'thank you' then walked back to her friends.

Rowan resisted a frown. Emma would have known what to do for Elena, she thought as she sat at the bar. Apart from sending money, Rowan couldn't do anything for her. Emma had been friends with Elena. Rowan sucked in a breath. She'd have to call Emma and tell her the bad news.

The stool next to her creaked. "So, what's a beautiful woman like yourself doing here alone?"

She turned, her eyes boring into crystals. She smiled, acknowledging the flirting. He was handsome, and he reminded her of her son, but death and decay surrounded him. She felt the beginnings of his desiccation. "Just paying my respects. I'll be gone soon." Her eyes traveled to his arm. "You should get that looked at."

Her attention turned to the bartender, who also had a pair of crystal blues, and came with the familiar blonde head of hair. "Hello, Matt."

He blinked as though he'd just seen her for the first time. "Rowan," he said, eyebrows reaching toward the crown of his head. "I didn't know you were back. Drink?"

"I'll have a scotch," the vampire interjected.

Matt rolled his eyes.

"And don't," the vampire stressed, "poison me. I'm already dying." He held up the arm that smelled worse than death.

"So nothing for you then, Damon." Matt's eyes traveled back to Rowan.

"I just got back," she answered, gathering her hair and pulling it all over her shoulder. The hustle and bustle of the crowd, although solemn, brightened her spirit. It was much better than sitting home alone. "Thank you for taking care of my garden," she smiled, flipping through the menu. "I'll pay you as soon as the banks open. I promise."

He smiled back shyly and tilted his head. "It was nothing. And I hope you don't mind," he said, drying off a glass and setting it down in front of her, "I picked some vervain. We've had a bit of an infestation." He pulled out a pitcher of water and poured it in her glass.

She didn't miss the annoyed look he sent toward Damon. She looked over to the vampire in question.

He wiggled his eyebrows to her then knocked on the counter. "Come on, Donovan. I'm a paying customer. I'm dying here. Give me some booze."

Matt whispered, "Not fast enough," and filled a glass of scotch for him.

"It's no problem," she said and closed the menu. "You can pick whatever you'd like. My home is always open to you." A weight fell over her shoulders, and the hair on the back of her neck stood. She looked around the bar room, but it seemed everyone was too busy in their own conversations to notice her. Still, the feeling wouldn't fade. It had to be him, but without a connection to the earth, she wasn't sure. "Um, can I grab something to go? I'm feeling a little drained."

His brow creased with worry, but he didn't ask questions. "Sure," he said, and pulled out his notepad, pen poised to the paper.

"I'll just have a burger and fries, please."

Matt and Damon watched her with questions in their eyes until she wrapped the paper bag in her fingers and walked out of the Grill. Her eyes stared coldly across the street, into the darkness of the trees. She slipped off her shoes, tucking her fingers into the heels. The gravel dug into her bare feet, but it didn't stop his energy from flowing through the soles of her feet.

"Klaus," she growled.


	3. Chapter 3

Annoying. Klaus did nothing but annoy Rowan. Always close enough to be felt, but never close enough to be seen or heard. It drove her crazy. She had enough vervain to wipe out a vampire army, yet the man still racked her nervous.

It was insane. She was older than him by thousands of years, and yet he still shook her. It had to be the broken bond. She'd heard of bonds breaking before, with members of her kind, but she'd never experienced it. Not until Klaus.

"When will you come home?" she asked her son through the receiver on her phone. She had it tucked under her ear, pressed against her shoulder while she folded clothes and tossed them on the couch.

"Soon," he said. There was shuffling in the background. Clanking, ruffling, muffled voices. "I have to go. I'm checking on Em for the next few weeks. But I promise, I'm coming home soon, Màthair."

"Okay," she sighed. " Tha mi gad ghràdh, a mhac."*

"Is toigh leam leat, a mhàthair," he replied. **

She hung up and tossed the phone next to her sloppy folds on the couch. Pushing her hair out of the way, she scooped up a stack of towels and turned to the stairway.

The window shattered. She jumped as a piece of glass grazed her cheek. The towels fell to a pile on the floor. Blood pumped to her legs, draining all the color from her fingertips. She hadn't felt anything unusual beneath her feet. She wiped her cheek of the golden fluid and rubbed her hand against her jeans. The wound had already healed.

Once the adrenaline slowed, she walked to her front door and turned the door knob. Outside, just behind the perimeter of the yard stood Elijah. Her eyes widened and she took a step back. She'd expected Klaus, of course. He was sometimes the only thing on her mind.

"My apologies, Miss Rhoswen. I'm afraid the vervain prohibited me from knocking on your door. I'll pay for the damages, of course," he said with a charming smile. He took a step closer, just to the edge of the property. "I hear you're going by Rowan, now. Quite a charming name. Although Rhoswen suits you much better."

Rowan stepped through the threshold and down the porch steps so she could see Elijah's face more clearly, and smiled. "It's been a while, Elijah. I have missed you."

"Clearly," he said, folding his hands together in front of him, and looking down at the crumbles of vervain.

"I have," she asserted. "But I am aware of the loyalty you share with your brother currently," she said, and shrugged. "People talk." She knew he could hear the blood pumping through her veins, the quickening beat of her heart. She always got this way around handsome men. It was the Fae blood.

"In any case," she said, "I can always let you in." She gathered her hair in her hands and pulled it over her shoulder, exposing the tanned flesh of her neck.

"As enticing as that sounds," he said, his eyes rolling over her hungrily, "I believe that would sway my loyalty in your favor, wouldn't it?"

She shrugged, "Just a benefit," and readjusted her hair to cover her neck. She shook her head and took a step back. "I apologize. I have to get inside. It'll be dark soon." She reached her hand over the property line and rested it on his forearm. She didn't mean to. It just seemed to be a natural thing to do. But she hadn't expected him to grab her and pull her over.

His muscles bulged beneath his suit. He always wore a one, always worked well for him. She grabbed onto his forearm to keep from falling. He leaned down, breath sweeping against her ear. "Careful. I wouldn't trust me too easily."

A warmth built in her core, and she shoved it out through her fingertips.

Elijah jumped back, brushing down the arms of his suit.

Rowan smirked and stepped back into her field of vervain. "Careful, I wouldn't underestimate me. After all, I am older than you. Tell Klaus I'll be in touch when I'm good and ready." She took a step back and turned, but couldn't seem to pull her eyes from him.

But she had to. She couldn't get involved with that family again. Emma was finally far away and more safe than Rowan was at the time. And Keenan had finally gotten over the broken bond. Keenan.

"Oh," she said. She tucked her hair behind her ear and raised her head. "And tell him to stay away from Keenan, if he knows what's good for him. I'm not playing games, Elijah. You have your family and I have mine."

He looked at her with understanding. She could feel his presence beneath her feet, strong, unyielding. Why couldn't she have fallen for him the first time? Why did it have to be Klaus? Stupid. She was stupid to have ever gotten involved with him. But then again, he gave her Keenan, and she'd never give him up for anything.

She turned away from him, bare feet rolling over the vervain in the grass. Her nose scrunched. She had to find another way to get rid of these vampires.

The front door shut behind her, creating a barrier between Rowan and the outside world. Loneliness crept up in her chest as the sun set beneath the horizon. And then she felt him. He was out there, waiting for her. He pulled on the silver chord that bound them. It was frayed in the middle, a consequence of when he left her. But it was still there.

Tossing the glass into the trash, she pulled the refrigerator open. A barren wasteland stared back at her. She bumped her forehead against the refrigerator door and once again tried to ignore the pull of Klaus.

There was only one other thing she could do—go to bed. So that's what she did.

When Rowan opened her eyes, she was surrounded by forest. Grass tickled her bare feet, her white gown sweeping against her ankles. The silver cord wound tight around her core, pulling her farther into the darkness.

Patches of moonlight illuminated the pathway she was pulled to take. Twigs snapped beneath her feet, tearing at the skin, but she kept walking. She could feel herself getting closer to him. Her head felt clouded, muddled over with desire.

Warmth spread across her cheeks, even through the late November air. Her breath smoked in front of her. She wanted him then. The thought of him touching her skin brought her to her knees. The cord, the bond, was awful, and magical. There was nothing so pure, so binding as being bound to one of the Fae.

One more step, and he was in front of her, brushing black hair behind her ear. His teeth grazed a pointed ear, and pressed his body against hers. Her knees wavered beneath the weight of her body. Bark pressed into her back as he shoved her against the tree.

His strong fingers threaded through her hair and he kissed her. Rowans palms supported her by pressing against the tree trunk. He pulled back.

"Klaus," she whispered, gazing into his hazel eyes. "You left. I can't forget that."

"I know, love." He cupped her jaws in his hands. "But just for tonight," he murmured, nipping her neck. "Be with me."

She didn't have a choice. The bond took away her free will. Once forged, damn near impossible to break. If she couldn't give a truthful answer, then she'd distract. Distract him from her answer. Distract herself from flaws of the bond.

She kissed him and ran her fingers through his curled strands of hair. His hands wrapped beneath her thighs and hoisted her onto his hips. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He was everywhere, burning. Pulling. Her ankles locked behind his waist, shoving her heated core against his.

The growl of a wolf erupted from his throat. His fingers delved beneath her gown and hooked around the crotch of her underwear. Her mind didn't register the tear until he pulled away, and the cold seeped in. Her lower stomach cramped from the loss. She pulled her hands away from her hair to reach down, but was stopped. The grumble that came from Klaus drained the color from her face.

Releasing the hold on her hands, he did the work for her, unhooking the belt and dropping his pants with one hand. He shoved himself into her, but she needed more. She needed his skin on hers. The bond was mending. It was what she needed.

The skin around her fingers glowed the moment they touched the skin of his stomach. He growled at her again, but she wouldn't yield. She shoved a finger through the collar of his shirt and dragged her finger down, burning, fraying it as it went. She shoved her hands through the shirt to his shoulders, pushing the shirt away. The heat from her body scorched the gown. The glow expanded into Klaus'.

"You," he growled, sheathing himself, pressing his torso against hers, "were not supposed to do that."

"You," she mimicked, flaring her energy, her power, her dominance, "don't get to tell me what to do."

He sighed out a moan at the influx of power and collapsed his forehead on her shoulder. His thrusts came quicker, harder. His rhythm became convulsive, the glow growing brighter and brighter until it encompassed both of their bodies, entities intertwined, two becoming one, and just like that, the bond was mended.

She woke on the forest floor at daybreak, naked, and alone.

He'd left her, again.

She reached out for the silver cord that connected them, that bound them together as one being, and found nothing.

The bond, broken.

*I love you, my son.

**I love you too, mother.


	4. Chapter 4

"Keenan, you don't have to come home," Rowan said as she rubbed a sponge over a plate. Her shoulder and ear held the phone in place. Where she'd been unsure of whether the bond with Klaus had been broken before, the black hole in her chest felt much more definite. "I'm sorry," she said, clasping the phone in one hand and holding herself on the counter with the other. "I shouldn't have called."

"Màthair," he sighed on the other end of the line. "I'm glad you called. I'm just sorry I couldn't be there. I'll be there in a couple of days, okay? I promise. I love you. And don't go anywhere near Elijah, either."

"And I, you," she replied, and hung up the phone, dropping it to the counter. Looking around the empty kitchen, she realized she really needed Keenan to come home.

She was more than just a grown adult. She was overgrown, and then some. Aside from her brethren, she was the oldest creature on the planet. The strongest. And she was sent into a blubbering mess by some thousand year old vampire. For god's sake, her kind created the kind that created vampires. If anything, she was grandmother to all vampires.

It was a strange concept, but it made sense. She needed to stop acting so human, and start acting like what she was. A member of the Fae. Wise. Charming. Manipulative. Strong.

It might have been too early for heavy drinking, but she could get away with a glass of wine around lunchtime without anyone sending her judgement. After all, she missed Matt a little.

* * *

"Good morning," Rowan smiled at Matt from the customer side of the bar. She gathered all of her hair to one side and began braiding. "Can I have—do you have breakfast food?"

He looked at her, seemingly stunned, before widening his lips to a grin. "I'm sure I can find you something. Water, right?"

She nodded. "And a mimosa. I'm told that's a good breakfast drink." She tucked her legs beneath her on the barstool and leaned her elbows on the table.

He placed a glass in front of her and filled it with water. "Are you sure? It's still before noon." His eyes softened when they landed on her, she saw it happen all the time. Only she wasn't sure whether it was a romantic interest or that he just cared about her. Sometimes the two emotions get blurred.

"I can handle it," she said, and reached out for her glass before Matt finished pouring the water.

He jumped at the feel of her fingers on his. "I'll, uh, I'll go make you some breakfast. Be right back."

"Better be careful," said a familiar voice. "You might give him a stroke."

She looked over to see the man who shared a similarity with her son. "Oh, Damon, right? Glad to see you're alive."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "Cause you'd be the only one." He lifted a glass of scotch to his lips and drained it.

She raised her eyebrow that time. "I'm sorry to hear that." She turned to Matt as he set out a mimosa in front of her. "Thank you, Matt. Breakfast?"

"Coming right up," he said, wiping his hands on a cloth tucked into his belt.

"Thank you," she repeated, and took a sip of her sparkling orange juice. A few strands of hair fell from her braid, coming to rest against her cheek. The tips of her ears slipped through. She felt the eyes of both men.

"What the hell are you?" Damon asked, flinching away as Rowan tucked her hair back in place.

She took another sip of mimosa. "Wouldn't you like to know," she teased.

"Don't bother her, Damon," Matt scolded as he placed a plate in front of Rowan. Scrambled eggs with bacon and mashed potatoes. "We didn't have hash browns."

Rowan shook her head. "It's perfect. Thank you."

"You knew about this?" Damon accused Matt. "And you feed her breakfast? Are you trying to kill us? First Klaus, and now some other supernatural thingy. Anything else I should know about?"

At the mention of Klaus, Rowan sat back and grabbed a fork.

"It's none of your business, Damon," Matt barked. "If she wants you to know, she'll tell you. Now either get a drink or get lost."

"Well you're not telling her that," he sneered, jabbing a thumb in Rowan's direction. Under Matt's glare, he shoved his glass to the other side of the bar so Matt could fill it.

"Don't put me in the middle of your feud, kid," she said.

"It's about you," he said. "And don't call me kid. You can't be that much older than me."

She minded her eyes to her plate and focused on finishing her food. This guy was just argumentative, and she didn't have the energy to deal with him. She hummed. "These eggs are delicious, Matt."

"I'm glad you like them," he said. He motioned to her drink. "Do you want a refill?"

She nodded. "Yes, please. Last one."

"How do you know Klaus?" Damon cornered her when she left the bar. She'd decided to walk that day, so there was no escaping the questioning.

She was getting annoyed. Sighing, she turned to him. "Do you want to see something fun?"

He visibly flinched away, but kept his eyes on her. "What is it?"

She held out her hand. The sun burned in the sky, but the cold wind made it near impossible to feel its heat.

"Again," he said. "What is it?"

She ran her hand through her hair before extending it to him again. "Just do it, Salvatore."

"Fine," he said, and placed his hand atop hers.

"I can make you feel things," Rowan said with a shrug of the shoulder, and placed her other hand atop his. Pulling the energy from her core, she blasted him through the palm of his hand.

"What the hell?" he mumbled. His eyes clouded over, heavy with lust. "Oh, god." he muttered, and closed his eyes.

"This," Rowan said, "is how our races survive. This is the feeling we long for, thrive for. I'll keep going if you'd like. You'd be pleased with the results."

"Yes, please. No." He shook his head and made to pull his hand back. "I mean, no. I don't need—"

"No, we never need it," she agreed, withdrawing the energy back into her core. "But it's our number one desire. Human beings, vampires, witches, werewolves, Fae," she said.

"Fae?"

She ignored him. "We all thrive on the passion. The burning desire. The ecstacy that is intimacy and lust. Without it, procreating is much more difficult, and much less fun." She pulled her hands away from his and turned. "You know where to find me."

Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she walked. Her energy was growing stronger, gradually, without the silver cord there to suck out all of it.

"Hey, you never answered me," Damon called out, but she was too far away to care.

The near orgasm she'd given Damon gave her more than enough energy.

* * *

When Rowan returned home, she didn't bother turning on the lights. She dropped her things on the counter and left straight out the back door.

The trees behind her house weren't quite large enough for her to fit through, so she had to do a little trekking, which was fine. She hadn't gone deep into the woods in a while, and for a creature of the forest, it was time.

Birds chirped in glee as though they knew she planned to return. And it wouldn't be for long. Perhaps just for the rest of the day, but she was tired. She'd been away ever since the bond with Klaus, and it was time for a cleaning.

Once the trees grew larger, she placed a hand on one big enough to swallow her. It glowed around her fingers, and stayed long after her hands pulled away. She continued through the forest, touching the trees, feeling the life beneath her fingertips, beneath her feet.

She saw the tree she needed about half a mile before she got to it. Still, she continued spreading her power, and shed her clothes. A pond circled the tree—one of the trees of life, only shown to those who carry Fae blood.

When she reached it, she was bare of all things. No clothes, no jewelry, no makeup. Nothing that didn't come from the natural world. She closed her eyes, pressing the palms of her hands against the bark. Light engulfed her, and she was gone.

A week later, she emerged.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm still so happy you're home," Rowan said, wrapping her arm around Keenan. She drew him close and slapped a kiss on his cheek. Her skin glowed from the renewed energy pulsing through her veins.

"You've been saying that for weeks, Màthair," Keenan replied, pulling away so he could finish his breakfast.

"And it's still true," she sang. "Are you going to school today?"

"Yes, Màthair," he said. "Monday through Friday, as always."

"Okay," she pouted. "I can just go hang out at the Grill until you get home. Matt can keep me company."

"Matt goes to school, too. Remember?"

She sat on the stool next to Keenan and propped an elbow on the counter, dropping her cheek into her hand. "I should get more friends, yeah?"

He laughed. "I'm so happy for you, Ma. I'm glad you Returned."

"Me too, hon." She smiled and grabbed his free hand. "Come have drinks with me tonight."

He shook his head and stood, walking over to the sink to drop his plate. "Get some friends, Ma."

She sighed. "I know, I know." She watched him rummage through his backpack. "Can I at least walk you to school?"

He slung his bag over his shoulder. "Sure. Let's go."

"Yes," she exclaimed, balling her fist. She ran to the door, slipping on her shoes as she crossed the threshold, and stopped. Something felt different in the air. She slipped her shoes back off and wiggled her toes in the grass. "Do you feel that?" she asked.

Keenan nodded. "Yeah."

"Be careful today. And call me if you need me," Rowan said, motioning to her ears. "I'll be listening."

Keenan took a few steps forward then turned to see his mother staring out across the street. He could sense it, too. The old ones gathering. They were awake, alive. And one was standing in the forest across the street. Somewhere, he was in there. Whether it was Klaus or another, he was unsure. Their energies were sometimes the same.

"Are you coming?" he asked her. He hoped she would say yes, that way she wouldn't be alone in the house. Even though the yard was saturated with vervain—and now wolfsbane as well, since Klaus made the change—he still felt uneasy about leaving his Màthair alone.

"Mm," she agreed, nodding. Her shoes stayed in her hands. She'd quieted since they'd sensed the presence of the old ones, but she kept her chin up high. He'd always been proud of his Ma. She'd endured much, even before he and Emma had come along, but Klaus seemed to break her spirit. Over and over he'd come and leave. And come, and leave, and the result was always the same.

The chord would fray, then mend, then fray, then mend. And Rowan never knew any different. But both he and Emma saw it. The cord. And now, it's gone. He didn't know what Klaus had done, but he knew that whatever it was, he'd broken the cord for good this time. And he couldn't say he was upset about it.

It was his mother. He'd do anything to make her happy.

Rowan didn't take her eyes off Keenan until he was safely behind school doors. Not that he was a child. He could take care of himself. He didn't even have to go to school if he didn't want to. He could've passed for a college kid. No one had to ever know.

"He seems to have grown well."

She tensed at Elijah's voice. "He has. He's so good to me. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve such a wonderful child." She turned to him. "I haven't seen you around."

His hair fell into his eyes. "My brother and I—it seems we've had a bit of a falling out." He locked his right hand over his left wrist.

"No," she said. "Not the great Klaus and Elijah."

"Is that sarcasm I detect in your tone?"

"Not at all." She smiled. "I'm sorry your loyalty was wasted." She grabbed the outer edges of her arms, shoes still dangling from her fingertips.

"Perhaps I'll choose better next time," he said with a smile.

She was charmed at his flirting, but the presence of the other old ones still captured her attention. "Perhaps."

The autumn breeze brushed against her cheeks, fanning her hair back. She sent a constant flow of energy to her toes to keep them warm against the cold concrete, and tucked her yellow scarf into her yellow jacket.

"Have a drink with me," he insisted, and held out his hand. "We have some catching up to do."

He looked at her with his big brown eyes and she couldn't say no. He was slowly becoming her kryptonite. "Very well." She slid her hands in his, enjoying the feel of his fingers wrapped around hers. But it was short lived, as he placed her hand on his arm.

It wasn't anything special, but she let him lead her to the Mystic Grill. "I hear you've reconciled with my brother."

Her fingers twitched against his jacket sleeve. "I also believed that was the case. Although I quickly discovered that our bond has completely broken."

He stopped walking. "I wasn't aware that was possible. I knew multiple bonds were common, but I've never heard of someone breaking a bond with one of the Fae."

Rowan thought for a moment. "Yes, multiple bonds are common. Some are romantic, some are not. It all depends on the Fae."

He seemed to take it all in, and continued walking. "Why is it uncommon for bonds to break? I understand the consequences of bonds broken between humans and vampires like myself, but I'm told the Fae have a rather different way of being."

She opened her mouth to speak, but closed back up. "I really shouldn't be telling you all of my secrets."

"Come now," he said, placing a hand atop hers. "We're old friends, aren't we?"

She slowly inclined her head. "I suppose one could call it that."

Relief blossomed in her chest when the sign of the Mystic Grill came into view. Before getting to the gravel, she decided to put on her shoes. She wouldn't be able to sense anyone in the bar room anyway, so she didn't want to subject her feet to the horrors of gravel.

She lifted her left foot and tucked on a shoe before moving to the right foot. She only let go of Elijah for a moment, but her chest grew heavy with the loss.

"You know, to anyone else, you might seem a little strange. What with walking around bare-footed."

"It's a Fae thing," she explained. And that was all the explanation he got.

"I figured as much," he said, holding the door open for her.

"Thank you," she said. "What a gentleman." She smiled and squeezed his arm. Her heart fluttered in her chest. It didn't happen often, but it seemed to happen a lot around the old ones. They seemed to have a certain charm.

"To be any way else would be a crime," he said, and gestured to a booth. "Is this table alright?"

"Of course." She nodded and sat across from him. She internally frowned at her choice. She would have preferred to sit next to him, avoid the molten chocolate eyes, and touch him easily. She was definitely a toucher.

Once he situated himself on the seat across from her, she hooked an ankle with his.

He tilted his head as though she'd shocked him. "You're certainly forward," he acknowledged.

She gathered her hair and pulled it over one shoulder. "Physical touch is comforting," she explained. Her fingers threaded through the long strands of hair, braiding and unbraiding.

He seemed about to say something when a waiter came over to the table and placed cups of coffee in front of us. She'd always liked complementary anything. Especially coffee.

"I thought Fae couldn't drink coffee, or anything impure for that matter," Elijah stated.

"Well," Rowan said, sipping her coffee. "I've adapted." In the end, she spoke to him, whether she'd wanted to or not. She just couldn't seem to resist the eyes. Around noon, she started feeling the coiling of a cord, and wondered if he felt it too.


	6. Chapter 6

"I've decided," Rowan called to the near-empty house. "I'm going to collect books," she exclaimed, plopping her stack on the kitchen counter. "I'm going tomorrow to get a bookshelf." She untucked the scarf from her jacket and unwrapped it from her neck. It still held the smell of new books, so she was reluctant to set it down.

Keenan's footsteps thrummed down the stairway and he came barreling to the kitchen. "I'm late," he explained, grabbing an apple from the countertop and kissing her cheek.

"Take my car," she said, tossing her keys.

He caught them midair. "Thanks Ma. You sure you don't need it for your bookshelf?"

She waved her hand in the air. "Nah. I can just wait until you get home, and we can go together."

"Okay," he said, nodding, and closed the door behind him.

Since Keenan's return, the house felt much less empty. She had more clothes to wash, more dishes to clean, more knickknacks left out. Most of the time, she just left them where they were instead of tossing them back in his room.

She listened for his footsteps, clambering down the steps, crunching the gravel of her driveway. Maybe she'd have it paved soon. Gravel was painful beneath her bare feet. The car engine roared to life outside.

The kitchen countertop thrummed beneath her fingers, stalled, and thrummed again. She looked around, locating the cell phone on the other end of the counter, illuminating. She held it to her ear. "Yes, mo mhac?"*

"You have a visitor. I almost ran him over, so come get him before he breaks a window." He hung up.

She placed the phone back on the counter and walked over to the front door. She reached out with her third eye and touched the small, twining cord, and tugged. The cord had lengthened recently, which meant Elijah was farther than she would have liked, but she knew he was tending to his family. The cord wasn't any smaller, so it couldn't have been him.

Life thrummed beneath the soles of her feet. She pressed her power through the ground and let it search out the visitor.

"I don't have all day, here," the visitor called.

She sighed and wrapped her fingers around the knob, twisting and pulling. "What do you want, Damon?"

"Well," he drawled. "I've thought a bit about what you said. And I did a bit of research on you." The vampire hovered just around the perimeter of her yard.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the threshold. "I'm flattered." With Damon, she tread dangerous ground. Her bond with Elijah already formed, and forming a bond with Damon would only lead to more heartache. It was better if she kept her distance.

"So Fae," he said, crossing his own arms. He paced the length of her driveway. "Short for Faerie, right?"

Rowan didn't say anything, only watched him with amusement, rolling the ends of her hair between her fingers.

"Are you going to keep me out here?" He stomped his foot.

She resisted the urge to smirk. "My, you are whiny, aren't you?"

"Elena knows," he said. "She knows what you are. She's pissed."

He was trying to get a rise out of her, but she didn't care who knew what she was. It wasn't a secret. Her kind had never kept their existence a secret. "Okay."

"You," he said, clutching his hair, "are infuriating. Can you at least tell me how old you are?"

She released another sigh and shrugged. She supposed she could tell him that much. "I, along with my brethren, am the beginning. When life emerged on earth, so did I. You have nothing on me, kid."

He stared, dumbfounded.

A whisper of her real name came through with the early December breeze. She pulled her eyes away from Damon and looked around. She couldn't feel his immediate presence, but she knew Elijah had called for her.

"It's time for you to leave," she told him, and closed the door on his protests, turning the lock. Her hand rested on her chest, searching for the cord. It resonated closer than what it had been the last few days. She wrapped her fingers around it, intending on giving it a gentle tug, but the moment she touched it, she jerked forward. She felt his lifeforce calling to her. He'd felt it there. He was calling for her.

She wrenched the door open to speak to Damon again, but he was gone.

She ran her fingers through her hair and closed the door behind her. Her feet moved on their own, following the path that lead to the other end of the cord. If she'd known where he was, she could have followed the trees, but as it was, she had no idea. Just a general direction.

Heavy stares fell on her back, and she knew she was being followed, but she was so focused on the cord that she didn't care. It was probably just Damon, so she wasn't worried.

Her feet lead her to the other end of Mystic Falls. As small as the town was, it only took about thirty minutes to get there. Give or take a few minutes, since the house was a little out of the way.

Rowan didn't bother knocking on the Salvatore house doors. In fact, the closer she'd come to the end of the cord, the more impatience overruled. She pressed the palm of her hand against the door, melting the lock. "Elijah?" she called when she stepped through.

The wooden flooring fueled her power, sinking in through her toes, and sliding up through her veins to the crown of her head. It'd been a while since she'd felt so alive and powerful.

A familiar face appeared in front of her, eyes black as night with bulging veins surrounding. A mess of mouse-brown hair topped the man in front of her. "Stephan," she acknowledged. "Where's Elijah?"

"Stand down, Stephan," said an unwelcome voice. "She's mine." Klaus.

Stephan took a step back.

Oh, how wrong he was. "I'm sorry," she admonished. "But I don't think you heard me. Where's Elijah?" Just to double check, she reached for the cord that once connected her with Klaus, and came up with nothing. It was more a relief than anything.

Klaus didn't say anything, only stared at her, as though she finally meant something.

She grew angry. "Do you feel that?" she asked, reaching for the nonexistent cord. "Nothing. Now get out of my way."

His nostrils flared with his inhale, and he forced a laugh. "Bonds with the Fae can't be broken. You can't resist me," he murmured, stepping closer to her.

She couldn't remember the last time she actually heard Klaus and her thoughts at the same time. With their bond, it was always one or the other. Never both. She placed a hand on his chest, scorching through his shirt and through to his skin, and kept pressing.

"Ah," he yelled, falling to his knees.

Stephan rushed to her, but she was fast to hold up her other hand. "I have another hand just for you, Stephan." She wiggled her fingers. "Tell me where Elijah is, or I kill him right here."

He hissed, fangs bared, but backed away. "What the hell are you?"

"Mm," she smiled. "You and your brother have such a way with words. Now tell me what I want to know."

Klaus' screams filled the foyer as her hands touched the bones of his ribs.

"In the basement," Stephan growled reluctantly.

She removed her hand, wiping Klaus' blood off on her jeans. "Thank you." She turned her back on him. "And remember that this house is filled with wood, hm? I'd hate for anything to happen to you in your own home."

She followed the cord down to the basement. It was cold, wet, and she couldn't find her equilibrium through all the concrete. But she heard the moans of a familiar voice at the end of the hallway.

The closer she came, the heavier her chest became. "Oh, Elijah," she whispered when she saw him. His hands bound behind a chair, with stakes sticking out of his biceps, thighs, and feet. Sweat dripped down the side of his face, splashing on the collar of his ruined dress shirt. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. Stay still."

She reached around him and pulled the vervain rope from his hands, but he didn't move. Then she started on one bicep, pulling out the stake, and pressing her palm over the wound. She slowed the rush of her power to a crawl as she sucked out the splinters left from the stake. They sunk into her palm. She repeated the process with his other bicep, his legs, and feet. It wasn't until she finished that he moved, dropping his head on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her skin, before his teeth pressed into her neck.

The cord between them became tangible, illuminating the darkness of the dungeon. All she could feel was his lips against her neck, his knee between her legs, the familiar coil humming in her lower stomach. A flick of his tongue against the wound, and the ceiling moved.

She hooked a leg around his waist and pulled him into her.

An emptiness filled her stomach when he pulled away, and she nearly cried out at the loss. Their bodies thrummed with the power of her blood, still glowing, still pumping through her veins. She'd been on the verge of falling, and one more suck would've done the trick, but he pulled away too soon.

But it was for the best that it stopped. She'd never experienced power like that before, and she didn't know if the house would have exploded. What she did notice, though, were the roots that broke through the concrete floor and created a dome around the semi-lovers. They lay on an eruption of green grass, flowers following the perimeter of the dome of roots. The ran her fingers through the grass. It was real.

Elijah looked in awe. "My god."

Rowan cried. She pressed a palm against the ground and extended her other hand to him. "Would you like to come in?"

Their bodies hummed even louder with power from the contact, and they sunk into the earth, emerging from the floorboards of Rowan's home. Elijah had officially been invited in.

* * *

"What the hell?" Damon asked the dome covered grass in the basement. Mystic Falls sure knew how to bring the weird.

*My son


End file.
